Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides)

by Lee Savino

“Hazel will give birth next,” she said with calm assurance. I wanted to ask how she knew, but bit my tongue. I knew she was an herbalist and was training with witches to learn their craft. It seemed she also was learning the midwife arts.

  “I want to be there,” I said. I had wanted to be there for Laurel’s birth, but had stayed away because of the fever. “That is, if she’ll have me.”

  “Of course she’ll have you,” Muriel said. “You are the closest to a mother the orphans have known. And there are plenty more babies coming. We will be busy this spring.”

  “And summer. And fall,” Sabine added with a sly arch of her brow.

  Muriel blushed and put a hand to her belly.

  “The unmated spaewives—the girls,” I asked. “Are they well?”

  A shadow crossed Sabine’s face. “We have moved them to the Alphas’ cave where they are easier to guard.”

  Oh dear. I did not like to hear that the girls had been uprooted again. “Is that because Jarl and Fenrir took me? Because—”

  “No,” Sabine cut me off. “It’s not because you were stolen. There are fewer warriors available to guard because we are at war with the Corpse King.”

  The breath left my chest. “We are?”

  “We must move against him, soon,” Muriel’s brow furrowed as she looked to her sister for confirmation. “The witches have decided.”

  “Why now?” I twisted the folds of my gown in my fingers.

  “We think he might have more power soon,” Sabine said grimly. She looked different, somehow, more remote, the sharp planes of her figure cut from shadow. “We must fight him before it’s too late and he cannot be stopped.”

  “More power?” I breathed. “How?”

  There was a pause and Muriel said, “Rosalind woke.”

  “She’s all right?” Rosalind had sustained a head wound and been unconscious for days.

  “She is gone. Somehow, she woke and fled the mountain. Wulfgar says he doesn’t know how she slipped through the guards again.” Muriel bit her lip.

  “We believe she is in league with the Corpse King,” Sabine said.

  “That’s impossible.” I wracked my memory. All those times Rosalind was angry and brooding. She hated the Berserkers and hated her fate.

  Perhaps it was possible.

  “There’s no way she slipped away without help. And Sorrel told us why Rosalind left the first time. She was trying to aid the Corpse King.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand. Oh Rosalind, what have you done?

  “It’s all right,” Muriel patted my hand. “All will be well.”

  “Sister Juliet,” a warrior was at the door. I rose, smoothing down my dress. “The Alphas are ready for you.”

  12

  Juliet

  I followed the warrior down the mountain path to the place of the standing stones. Sabine and Muriel came with me, and for that I was glad, or as glad as I could be under the circumstances.

  A great crowd of warriors had assembled in the clearing. Some stalked as wolves through the crowd. As I stepped into their ranks, a path formed, and I followed it to the fires and the great stones where the Alphas sat. Each footstep I took was matched by the beat of the drums. My own heart fluttered wildly out of time, but when I came to my place, I composed my face. I would remain calm.

  Jarl and Fenrir stood to the side; their hands bound in front of them. I felt their gaze flit over me, and the featherlight mental touch of their minds to mine. Checking to see I was unhurt.

  The drums boomed louder, their rhythm faster, and the Alphas filed in. I fisted my hands at my sides.

  I could do this.

  The largest warrior, a blond with a great beard, sat on a stone throne. This was Samuel, one of Brenna’s mates. He gazed around the clearing and the drums fell silent. After a moment, he began.

  “We are gathered here for the trial of Jarl and Fenrir. These warriors have broken our decree and harmed a spaewife. They took her for their own and held her in a hidden lodge for several days. They do not deny it.” Though he spoke in a low, measured tone, his voice boomed around the clearing, amplified by the stones. “Will anyone speak for them?”

  I stepped forward before I began. “I am Juliet, and I will speak for them.”

  “You will?” asked Samuel. “Why?”

  “They are my husbands.” I was shaking, but I shouted louder. “In the eyes of God and man.”

  The Alpha cocked his head to the side. “Which god?”

  “My God. They knew I kept the faith, and they sought a priest so we could be married. They have treated me well. And though I was reluctant at first,” the corner of my mouth quirked at the understated truth, “I am their wife now. I will not leave them.”

  “So you accept these men as your mates?”

  “Yes. My mates and my husbands. I wish that you would pardon them.” My voice broke but I forged on. “I love them.”

  Across the fire, Jarl and Fenrir held my gaze.

  “Is this true?” Samuel looked beyond me. “She has accepted them?”

  “It’s true.” Muriel and Sabine stepped to my side. “We have spoken with Juliet and she told us everything.”

  Samuel thought some more. The assembly of warriors was quiet, almost too quiet. I knew Samuel was communing with his Alpha brothers, but I did not know what the verdict would be.

  Overhead, hawks wheeled in the spring sunshine. My legs trembled.

  “Very well.” When Samuel spoke up again, I nearly toppled over. I gripped my skirts harder. “Spaewife Juliet, we hear your plea.” His voice softened. “Because you have spoken for them, we will not sentence them to death. But we cannot overlook their crime. There are consequences to kidnapping and keeping a spaewife.” He glared at the assembled warriors.

  “Didn’t they do what you did?” My voice rang out before I could stop it. Samuel looked to me and I wiped my sweating palms on my gown. “My lord, forgive me. But we’ve all heard the stories of how you found your mate. And how the Alphas of the Lowland pack found theirs.”

  A murmur rose among the warriors. “Silence,” Ragnvald ordered and fixed me with a crooked grin. “You know the tales, so you know why there are rules. You know why they are important. We must protect the spaewives.”

  “They did protect me.” From myself. “But if you will hold them to rules you yourself broke, then I pray you will show them mercy.”

  “Mercy,” Samuel murmured, stroking his blond beard. Beside him, on a smaller stone throne, Brenna reached out and squeezed his hand.

  “Very well. We will show them mercy. But they will still have a punishment. In the coming war with the Corpse King, they will fight on the front lines.”

  I covered my face with my hands.

  Muriel put her hand on my back in comfort. “At least it is not a death sentence.”

  “Is it not?” I muttered. The Corpse King’s magic was growing. The witches did not dare approach him, lest he conquer them and drain their powers for his own. How would the Berserkers fare?

  Muriel moved away, and the scent of woodsmoke surrounded me. “It’s all right, little wife,” Fenrir tugged my hands down. I threw myself against him, hugging him, soaking in his warmth.

  Jarl pressed against my back. “We will fight and we will win.”

  “They say it’s hopeless,” I whispered.

  “Then you must pray. You have told us stories of your God and his followers. Didn’t they often face the impossible?”

  “Yes.” I blink as Jarl brushed tears off my cheeks.

  “Then pray to your God. And believe.”

  Epilogue

  Juliet

  The moon was waxing once more when I stood again in the door of the lodge Jarl and Fenrir had built for me. My hands rubbed the curve of my belly. I was not showing, but one day my belly would be as round as the full moon. I had not told anyone, because they would insist I stay in the Alphas’ caves with the rest of the women.

  I paced in front of the lodge, unable to keep s
till. Today was the day the Berserkers were returning home. My men had fought on the front lines, and though I’d heard reports that they were well, I would not believe it until I laid my eyes on them.

  My faith only stretched so far.

  Please, I begged, lifting my face to the moon. I had prayed to God every day, and kept busy tending to the orphans. And though waiting was hard, a peace had fallen over me.

  The time for waiting was over.

  Juliet? Where are you? I nearly leapt at the touch of Fenrir’s mind to mine.

  I am here. I sent him an image of myself standing in the doorway of the lodge. I am waiting. I stopped pacing. I shifted from foot to foot, my heart pounding like a drum.

  We are coming. We are almost home.

  I closed my eyes and Saw what surrounded my warriors. The path up the mountain. Around them, the forest blurred.

  I opened my eyes the exact moment Jarl’s head appeared over the rise. Fenrir followed. When they saw me, they quickened their pace, only to slow as they approached. They looked tired, and their clothes were dirty, but they were home.

  I raced the final steps to them, grabbed the front of their jerkins and pulled them down to kiss them both.

  “Thank God. Thank God.” I was sobbing.

  “Thank Fenrir. He saved my life more than once.” Jarl grunted.

  “Thank you,” I breathed and launched myself into Fenrir’s arms. He laughed as he caught me.

  “Is it over?” I asked. “Is it done?”

  He pressed his forehead to mine. “It’s done. The mountain is safe.”

  I did not ask how they defeated the Corpse King. That story would come, perhaps when we were back at the mouth to the Alphas’ caves, gathered around the fire.

  “Little wife,” Fenrir cupped my face in his hands and looked me over. When he got to my feet, he frowned. “Where are your boots?”

  I laughed through my tears. “I gave them to Meadow.” The oldest of the unmated spaewives had been pining since all available warriors were called to fight the Corpse King. A new pair of boots gave her some cheer.

  A growl rumbled in Fenrir’s chest as he wiped my tears away. He shook his head, mock grumbling, “As soon as we bring them to you, you give them away.”

  “Meadow thanks you for the gift.” I closed my eyes as he nuzzled my cheek, giving the side of my neck a little nip. “I did it so you would return safely to me.”

  When he stood back from me, he had a pair of new boots in his hands. “Do not give these away. Simply tell us who needs a pair, and we will provide for them.”

  “Thank you, husband.”

  “Let’s go inside,” he growled. “It’s too cold for you.”

  I sighed and let him draw me back near the fire. “The weather is still not right for late spring.” I bit my lip. Was it fallout from the Corpse King?

  “It may take time for the weather to return to normal,” Fenrir said. “But do not fear, little mother. We fully enjoy the time we pass indoors.”

  They laid me down and fussed over me. Fenrir tucked me into the pelts while Jarl built up the fire.

  “There’s plenty of wood,” he remarked.

  “Knut kept it stocked,” I said from my place, cozy and warm in the furs. “He brought me here today, in gratitude for helping his mate. Hazel gave birth at the time of the new moon. A girl.”

  “Knut is a father.” Fenrir shook his head.

  I ducked my head. By Michaelmas, they too would be fathers, but I had not told them.

  As they completed their chores one by one, they left to dip in the cold stream that ran beside the lodge. They returned, naked and tossing their heads to shake off the excess water. The sight of their bare bodies warmed me through and through.

  “It’s good to be clean,” Fenrir said, and Jarl agreed.

  “We brought some fresh game,” Jarl opened his pack. “We also have dried meat, though I am sick of it.”

  “We can hunt,” Fenrir added.

  “I am not hungry for meat,” I told them. “I am hungry for you.” I tossed away the pelt covering me and pulled up my dress.

  The bed shook as two Berserkers lay down. “Little wife,” Jarl growled against my lips. “We are hungry for you as well.”

  I kissed him until my face was red and chafed from his thick beard. When I turned to Fenrir, Jarl set his hands inside my dress bodice and ripped it open.

  I gasped and he muttered, “We’ll find you another.”

  Fenrir claimed my mouth as Jarl browsed between my breasts. His teeth latched onto my sensitive nipple and I cried out.

  Fenrir raised his head. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” I grabbed Jarl’s head and pulled him closer. “More. I want more.”

  My husbands ripped away the rest of my dress as they worked their way down. They turned me on my side between them, Jarl at the front, Fenrir at the back. Their beards scratched my skin as they kissed me, nuzzling and breathing in my scent.

  Jarl hooked my left leg over his shoulder and nosed close to my aching entrance. Fenrir left the bed for a moment. When he returned, he drizzled oil along my backside. His fingers delved between my cheeks as Jarl’s tongue flicked over my folds. My hips rocked back and forth as both men fucked me, one with his fingers, the other with his tongue. My orgasm dashed over me like a shock of fresh water. The lodge filled with my breathy cries.

  “Naughty wife,” Fenrir murmured against my shoulder. He pressed his big body against mine, rubbing his cock against the back of my leg. “What is it you want?”

  “You,” I whispered. I want you, I added, speaking into the channel that linked our minds. I shared the image of me strung up between the frame with arms above my head and legs wide. My body glistened with oil in the firelight.

  “Tie me up,” I murmured. “Punish me. I want to feel you.”

  “You wish to be punished?” Jarl ground the palm of his hand against my folds, sparking new pleasure.

  “Yes.” I rocked my hips harder, but Jarl took his hand away.

  “What about the child?” Fenrir placed his hand on my belly. “When were you going to tell us?”

  I bit my lip. “I thought you might guess.”

  Fenrir rolled me to my back gently, and planted a kiss on my still flat belly. “We knew as soon as we scented you.”

  “Your scent is different,” Jarl said. He stood beside the bed with leather ties in his hand. “Well, brother, how shall we punish her for keeping secrets?”

  “We tie her up and claim her fully,” Fenrir said and drew me to my feet. He tugged the torc around my neck, then clamped his hand on the back of my neck and marched me to the frame where Jarl waited. As they moved me into position, the Berserkers were gentle but the gleam in their eyes made me shiver.

  Jarl tied my arms above my head while Fenrir secured my feet. Then they ran their hands over me, stroking and oiling every part of me thoroughly. I rolled my hips forward, begging, but Jarl kept his touch brisk. All too soon they took their hands away.

  Fenrir clapped his hand against my bottom. He spanked one side then the other while Jarl stood before me, gliding his oiled hand along his cock. I arched my back, pushing out my breasts to entice him. Jarl smirked and shook his head.

  When Fenrir finished and stepped back, my bottom was warm.

  “Breathe,” Jarl told me, and I didn’t understand. Fenrir braided my hair and placed it over my shoulder so it hung down my front. He stepped back and my skin prickled. The next instant, a stinging rain struck between my shoulders. I cried out.

  “Breathe,” Jarl reminded me. He placed a hand over my heart. “Just breathe.”

  The knotted ends of the flogger struck again. Fenrir painted my back with crisp strokes. The strands bit again and again. When he stopped and pressed his body to my back, I cried out and struggled as the hair on his chest abraded my sensitive skin. My cunny throbbed with a delicious ache. Each pulse was bigger than the last, pulling me under.

  I heard the wild and pagan beat, dee
p in my mind, pounding with the rhythm of my heart. The drums. They were a part of me.

  Jarl stepped forward, his naked body caressed in moonlight and flame. His tattoos writhed across his chest like dark demonic tongues. He stood in front of me and tugged my head back by my braid. As he kissed me, he slid his cock inside. My inner muscles fluttered as he worked his cock fully into my tight channel. When my body opened and accepted him fully, we both groaned.

  Jarl fucked me slowly. Every time Jarl drew out, Fenrir flogged me again, snapping the leather strands against my bottom until heat flooded my sex. He bent and untied my feet, and I twined my legs around Jarl, pulling him close.

  “You are so tight,” Jarl growled. “How do you feel?”

  “Full.” When he thrust deep, I felt him in every part of me.

  “Not full enough.” Fenrir drizzled my oil down my crack. Jarl hitched me higher against him, and Fenrir set the firm bulb of the plug against my ass.

  “Oh no,” I moaned.

  “Oh yes.” Fenrir pushed until the plug stretched my bottom hole. Jarl came, groaning against my shoulder. “Feel this, brother.” He stepped away, and Fenrir took his place.

  Fenrir took me harder, slamming deep enough to make the plug vibrate in my bottom. He jerked his hips up in short, pulsing bursts that made my eyes roll back in my head. Pleasure tightened in a golden coil in my lower belly, sensation spiraling upwards.

  At my back, Jarl’s teeth scraped my shoulder. He pulled out the bulb, leaving my bottom hole empty and gaping. I cried out, my fingers flexing in the bindings. Jarl worked his cock inside my ass, inch by inch, while I pleaded for mercy.

  When my orgasm exploded, it sent me soaring. I floated above the frame, watching myself writhe between the two warriors as they worked their cocks into my small body.

  I was bound between them. Tied up and at their mercy. My body was caged, but my heart was free.

  “We worship you,” Fenrir whispered in my ear. He surged in deep, slamming me further onto Jarl’s rod. I came back into my body with a cry. Sweat ran down my chest and disappeared between us. “Little goddess.”